The Morning After
by L56895
Summary: A collection of connected drabbles and ficlets. The morning after a drunken night.
1. Competition

I've been trying my hand at the good old fashioned drabble! Chapter 3 will contain a longer ficlet, whereas other chapters are more like snapshots!

* * *

He slammed the glass back down on the bar with more force than she was expecting.

"Seven!" he slurred, grinning at her and striking a wide-armed pose on the stool. She grabbed his shirt before he could lose his balance.

"Idiot," she laughed, jumped up and wrapped her arms around his chest, "It's not a competition."

"But I'm winning," he pouted down at her and rested his hands on the small of her back, fingertips stroking, "Why won't you just let me win, Myst?"

She laughed and, without letting herself over-think it, pressed her lips to his.


	2. Proximity

The night was clear and he took a deep breath as they stepped out on to the pavement, rubbed his thumb over the knuckles and guided her in the direction of home.

Ash was glad that they'd chosen to drink at a bar close to his apartment; they were be home within ten minutes of him throwing money on to the bar and grabbing her hand.

Misty was glad that they'd gone out drinking at _all_. Gone were the nerves that usually perforated any interactions she had with the boy pulling her to his side. She fit against him perfectly, his head dipping down to press his lips to hers, and she kissed him back hungrily.


	3. Passion

Before he even opened his eyes, Ash knew something wasn't quite right. There were no quiet electrical buzzes in his ear as Pikachu snored softly on the pillow next to his head. More pressingly, Pikachu had been replaced by someone else. Someone whose hair was tickling his nose each time he took a breath.

 _Don't open your eyes and you can pretend it never happened,_ he thought, _Just ignore it and we don't have to think about it just yet._

"Ash?" a soft voice, tinged with more than a little concern, broke his concentration and he opened one eye to meet her gaze, "Are you okay?"

Time for a mental tick list. _Head?_ Fine. _Stomach?_ Churning. _Hangover?_ Minimal. _Sense of guilt and impending doom?_ Surprisingly non-existent. He exhaled softly and suppressed a chuckle.

"We did something very stupid, Myst," he laid back and draped his arm over his eyes, "Really stupid."

She shifted uncomfortably next to him and he watched as she pulled the sheet up self-consciously out of the corner of his eye. Flashbacks to her _without_ the sheet came to him and he tried to stifle the smile that sprung to his lips again.

"What's so funny?" she was scowling now and he lost control, grinning at her and bringing his hand down to touch her cheek.

"I don't regret it one single bit."

"Really?"

"No. I feel like I should, maybe, but I don't."

"Me either."

"Have you ever imagined us doing this?" he asked quietly. The blush that sprung to her cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "You _have!_ "

She slapped him lightly on the chest, "It's been ten years, Ash. Of _course_ I've considered it…"

"Pervert," he laughed and caught her hand as she swung at him again, kissed her fingers and held them against his lips. They stayed there for a silent moment, eyes shut and skin to skin, before he signed and met her eyes again. "I've thought about it too. I never believed it would ever happen, but I thought about it. I… I wanted it to happen."

And then they were kissing again, lips clumsy and soft, hands roaming under the sheets. _I'll never get tired of kissing you_ , he thought as her lips parted against his, _Never never never._ As he ran his fingertips down her thigh she obligingly hooked her leg over his and pulled him on top of her

He let his hands do the talking for a little while longer.

* * *

Later, he propped her head on his chest and snaked his arm around her back to hold her there. His free hand ran lazily up and down her arm as he listened to the soft sound of her snoozing. The clock at his bedside was flashing 10:00am and he thanked his lucky Zapdos that it was the weekend and no obligations would be knocking at the door. If he had his way this morning would stretch on forever; Misty's breath tickling his bare chest, her leg flung over his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She was perfect in his arms and he tightened his hold on her, imagining mornings like this greeting him forever.

It was a scary thought, the idea of forever. Forever with his best friend, forever with someone who cared for him and drove him to distraction in equal measure. Scary, but _right._ He realised with a jolt that he couldn't imagine a future _without_ her by his side and that that niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't just _fear,_ but also excitement.

 _I never believed it would ever happen,_ he thought back to his earlier words.

Now that it _had_ happened, he had no idea what came next.

Eventually, she stirred and he bent his head to greet her with a kiss. "Hey, you," he murmured against her cheek as she yawned and stretched out next to him. She was mesmerising and he gawped at the sight of her body exposed to him in the early morning light. When he met her eyes again she was leering at him, her grin wide.

"What are you thinking?" she purred suggestively and he flopped back down on the bed with his arms stretched out wide. When he didn't reply she kissed the side of his mouth, frowned, "Ash?"

"I don't know, Myst… I've never done this before," he flushed as her eyebrow shot up and cleared his throat, "I mean… I've done _that_ before, " he flashed her a grin before his face faded to a more serious expression, "But never with someone I couldn't bear to lose."

And there it was, the thing unspoken between them that had been brewing for as long as he could remember. That gentle progression from childhood best friends to adults that knew everything about one another. He'd heard every worry, held her as she'd cried, laughed and raged. Their friendship had stretched through long nights under the stars, long distance post card exchanges, and now settled life in neighbouring cities. They were no longer children who harboured innocent crushes, or teenagers in unspoken lust… they were adults on the cusp of something deeper. He'd let it simmer under the surface of his skin for years now; a feeling that occasionally crested like a wave of jealousy whenever her eyes sparkled at someone other than him. Last night when she'd finally kissed him that wave had become a tsunami that whipped him up, spat him out and left him tangled in bedsheets with his best friend.

"And the problem is I don't know what this is," he was sputtering out his words now, Misty nestled silently in his arms as she gazed up at him and just listened, "I've thought about this, but I could never get my head round what it would mean for us. What would happen the morning _after._ "

"So you just thought about the sex?" she frowned and he kissed her softly.

"No, that's not what I mean," he murmured when they finally broke apart, "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"No," she whispered and he laughed softly, sadly, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I'm crazy about you," he said finally, "You're the one, Myst, and I don't even know what that means."

Misty said nothing, just tipped her chin up to kiss him. Her lips were so soft, parted and willing for him, and he leaned in to the kiss. When she pulled back he sighed and settled back against the pillows.

"If this isn't love then that's a little scary," he whispered, squeezing her closer to his side, "If there's a bigger feeling than this then they need to come up with a bigger word."

He thought of all the things he'd ever claimed to love. He'd never considered himself to be a romantic, but he knew he was a passionate person; Pokemon training; protecting his friends; travelling; that swoop of red hair that fell across her eyes when she looked up at him.

"I don't _know_ if I love you, but I think I do. I've never felt _this_ before," he shifted so that he was on his side facing her on the bed, her head propped up on his arm like a pillow, and frowned, "This _has_ to be love, doesn't it?"

Misty chuckled softly and reached up to comb his scruffy hair back from his face with her fingertips, "You're asking me?"

"Yeah, Myst!" he pushed himself up on his elbow, his other hand balanced on the curve of her bare hips, "You're the one who's good at all this! You now about love and… and stuff."

She shook her head sadly, "I've only ever loved one person," her voice was low and when she looked up at him he was frowning.

"Who?" he said, before his eyes went soft and his lips puckered in surprise, "Oh…"

Before she could say anything else he was on her, pressing kisses against her mouth and along her jaw. She threw her head back, running her hands through his hair when he moved to her neck. She loved him, loved _him,_ and he responded the only way he knew how; with unrestrained, clumsy passion. The future was scary, but right now all he could think of was the way her body responded to his touch, how she arched her back to get closer to his touch. She loved him and no matter how terrified he was that was enough to get him through each day.

"It's always been you, Ash," she moaned as he pulled the sheet over them both.


	4. Comfort

"You know, you're gonna have to give my underwear back if we want to go get food,'" he raised his eyebrow with a grin and tightened his grip around her shoulder.

"While we're on that, how does an adult manchild have zero food in his apartment?" she teased, making no effort to move.

"I'm a busy manchild!" he laughed, "And I'm hungry!"

"I've got a better idea," she murmured against his lips, "And your boxers are comfy."


	5. Deliveries

Ash cracked open the door with the blanket hooded over his head and his eyelids lowered, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose for good measure.

"You look awful," Brock said simply, holding out a bag of warm food, "Here, hope this makes you feel better."

"Thanks, Brock," Ash groaned, "Call you when I'm feeling better."

He let the door shut with a click and the blanket drop to the floor.

"He'd go zubat at us for keeping this from him," Misty smirked at him from the bed and welcomed him back with a soft kiss.


	6. Constellations

She'd been fluttering in and out of sleep since they finished Brock's food. Ash held her gently, murmuring softly when she was looking up at him and admiring her pursed lips when she drifted off to sleep again.

Heart pounding, he bent his head to run trails of kisses along the soft expanse of skin next to her nose. He'd never considered how incredibly attractive he found freckles before he came this close to that perfect constellation along her cheeks.

"I never want to give you up," he whispered against her skin and buried his face in to her hair.


	7. Patter

Ash opened his eyes to find himself alone, fingers balled up in loose blankets. The door to the bathroom was ajar and he could hear the patter of the shower, smell the warm scent of the bodywash he left on the side. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he padded across the room.

Behind the sheer plastic curtain he could see the blurred outline of her body. Memories of his hands all over her flooded back to him and, pulling the sheet aside, he stepped forward and buried his face in the back of her damp neck.


	8. Diner

The diner at 3am was almost empty, the few patrons spooning food to their mouths like zombies. Misty's stomach growled, reminding her why they'd left the bed in the first place.

"Does this count as a first date?" she slipped in to a booth, toying with the laminated menu. He paused with his hands in his pockets and frowned at her before he shrugged off his jacket and grinned.

"Only if it's the first of many," his warm, solid body slid in next to her and she sighed in to his embrace.


End file.
